


Enduring the unbearable

by s_a_b_i_n_e



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Injuries, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff, Free Use Of Book And TV Canon, Happy Ending, Hurt Magnus Bane, M/M, Mentioning of Self-Harm, Oblivious Alec Lightwood, Pain, Pain-sharing, Pining, Soulmarks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 17:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_a_b_i_n_e/pseuds/s_a_b_i_n_e
Summary: Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, finally learns that he has a soulmate. But he isn't happy about it. What should he look forward to? Somebody who simply doesn't care that they hurt him nearly every day through their soulmark? Someone who seems to be eitherveryclumsyormasochistic and who never seems to sleep? Who could want someone like that? Magnus, apparently. Or not?A soulmate AU in the canonverse where some don't have a soulmark, but instead can feel the pain that their soulmate is experiencing.[Daily updates]
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 258
Kudos: 290





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again. I hope you enjoy it. 😊
> 
> Thank you to Hittiske and Satyana, my wonderful betas on this journey. 💜

Magnus hisses. _Damn soulmate!_ Can't they take care of their hands just for once?

Magnus looks at his perfectly manicured fingers, knuckles skinned and bloody. He knows the wounds will close within minutes as usual for cases like him. At least if the idiot that destiny has chosen for him is so kind to not bloody hurt themself any longer. Which is unlikely.

There had been a time when Magnus pitied the person. He wanted to help them when he was woken up in the early hours from bruises suddenly blooming on his skin. He was worried for them when he found little cuts on his thighs for months and months.

Magnus doesn't exactly know when the worry for them turned into revulsion. There is just so much one can bear. As a warlock, he isn't used to being constantly in pain. Most stuff mundanes have to suffer through don't do warlocks any harm. Papercuts close as soon as they are happening, fire doesn't burn his skin, his magic keeps him from bumping into furniture or having to fight in close combat.

Since the Circle had been defeated, his life has been rather quiet anyway. Of course, as the High Warlock of Brooklyn, he has enough to do. But nobody comes close enough to lay a finger on him. His skin was unblemished for years. Until September 12, 2006, that is.

At 4 am sharp, he felt them for the first time. Little lines, methodically appeared on his thigh. They disappeared after two minutes and Magnus sank back to sleep, half-believing he had just dreamt the whole ordeal. But he was woken half an hour later with a nice bruise on his right shoulder, followed by one on this left leg and afterwards basically on every part of his body.

He called Cat in panic. His best friend scanned him with her magic and revealed the truth: he wasn't cursed and she couldn't heal him. His pain came from his soulmark and his soulmate had just turned 17.

He should have been elated. For hundreds of years, he had waited for them to be born. His soulmark hadn't developed when he turned 17, so he had always hoped that he was one of the few who would find a 28 days long countdown on their wrist before finally meeting them. It never came, so he just lived how and loved who he wanted. No matter his situation, four weeks would have been enough to separate from a partner or clean up his mess when melancholy would have a tight grip on him as it sometimes did. He would be so happy the day he knew that they would meet soon.

But when it happened, Magnus couldn't be happy about knowing his soulmate existed somewhere out there. How could he? The injuries never stopped. Pain could flood his system at any time of the day, without him being the one targeted. This whole soulmate business simply sucked. And it hasn't stopped sucking for three damn years now!

The warlock isn't even sure if he wants to meet them. Of course, it would make the pain go away. At least if they wouldn't refuse to finish the bonding process. But his soulmate doesn't seem to be a normal person, so maybe it was better to never meet them and just hope for them to not be immortal as he is.

There once was a time when Magnus loved the idea of soulmates. He still remembers how his mother told him about meeting his stepfather. How glamorous and romantic finding each other had been. Of course, his parents had been lucky enough to just have each other's names written on their wrists. It is one of the most common forms of soulmarks after all.

There are a variety of soulmarks out there - from symbols to countdowns, from first words to song lyrics. But Magnus isn't so lucky. He has a very rare soulmark form. He lives through every injury his soulmate encounters, mirrors every pain. And his soulmate seems to be a very clumsy person, or a masochist, or both.

They are hurting themself every single day and their time schedule is awful, too. They never seem to sleep more than four hours and those not always at night. Sometimes they seem to be awake for days. If they weren't so young, Magnus would have guessed them to be a soldier or maybe in the special forces.

It doesn't matter anyway. Magnus can't change anything about it. He just has to suffer through it. For about two minutes, he has a toothache or a hematoma, feels burning on his tongue when they drink their coffee too fast. Stupid things like that. It would be okay if, yeah, if his soulmate wouldn't obviously treat their body recklessly, injuring themself several times a day, and sometimes in major ways, too. As if they didn't care that they not only hurt themself but him in the process.

That fact makes Magnus angry. He would never hurt his soulmate like this. He even stopped cooking, something he loved doing, but the only source of injuries he really had. Maybe he should just risk cutting himself. Maybe then his soulmate would understand what they are doing to him. But Magnus isn't heartless. Even though he's angry and disappointed to be connected to someone who simply doesn't care, tit for tat isn't his style. And he pities the person who seems to need relief through pain.

His knuckles are still hurting after three-quarters of an hour and Magnus curses under his breath. He needs to finish this potion today and his soulmate seems to abuse a punching bag or something as the 'healed' flesh just breaks open over and over again.

It's one of _those_ nights as it seems and Magnus pops a few painkillers that Cat got him - in a warlock's dosage. His hands tremble as he grabs the glass vial. It does no good to hope for a quick recovery tonight, so he bites through and uses a stirring spell.

Exhausted, he falls into his bed later. Who knows how long his soulmate will let him sleep? At night, they get injured pretty often. Maybe they're going into a BDSM club. Although, some of the injuries are too bad, even for hardcore kinks.

Magnus can't find a pattern, anything that might bring him closer to meet the person who steals his sleep - and not in a good way.

Not for the first time, he wishes there wasn't someone out there destined for him. It would all be so much easier.


	2. Chapter 2

"You can't keep bottling things up, Alec," Izzy says. "It's only a matter of time before they explode."

"Yeah, yeah," her brother says and rolls his eyes. "It's easy for you to say!"

He puts his bow and quiver back into the weapon cabinet and tries to give Izzy the slip when he strides to the training room. Of course, his little sister is right at his heels.

"Come on, dude. It's not my fault that I found my soulmate in the middle of this very entertaining mess," Izzy sighs.

Her hand goes instinctively to her wrist, where the name _Simon_ is written in scrawly handwriting, settled in black, now that they finally met and accepted the bonding. Before, it had been a deep red. A promise of love, unlike the blue one that their parents shared before they met. Platonic, but still soulmates. The Clave likes those. They are less trouble - in theory. Until one falls in love, of course, but that is a whole other can of worms.

"Yeah. And Jace his, too," Alec murmurs.

The shadowhunter can't stand his sister’s compassionate gaze on him. He felt it way too often in the past four years. But ever since Clary turned their world upside down and brought both his siblings' soulmates into their lives, everything just sucks thousandfold. It doesn't help that both just accepted the bond before consulting their parents. There is no rule to do it right away, but of course, both were too elated to wait. And now, he's the only one left to marry off. His little brother still has a few years before his soulmark will appear after all.

Now, his parents' only hope to restore the family name lies on Alec. Once again, he's the odd one out. But at least this time his otherness is useful.

Truth be told, Alec had dreaded his 17th birthday. It would have been just his luck to find a romantic soulmate name on his wrist. That was his worst nightmare in the weeks leading up to his birthday. A platonic one would have been safe. Secretly, he hoped for Jace's name in blue on his wrist. Of course, they would still have to marry women, but that wasn't the point. It would have been enough to settle his treacherous heart.

But then it struck midnight and everyone at his little party turned to him, looking curiously at his wrist. But nothing appeared. _Absolutely nothing._ Everyone stared at him in shock. Shadowhunters always had marks. No one had ever heard of a soulmate-less nephilim.

His mother stalked over to him, pulled him out of the room, and pushed him into the bathroom to check the rest of his body. But still - nothing.

No blue or red name, no symbol, no soulmark whatsoever in sight. At that moment, Alec breathed out in relief. The Angels had been merciful. He may be gay - something his society did not really approve of, to put it mildly - but at least he didn't have to explain to his parents why there was a male, red name inked into his skin.

But now, after three years of mostly ignoring the topic, the whole thing is crashing down on him. His parents aren't really happy about their children's soulmates. One, the daughter of a traitor, not raised in the shadowhunter community, and a little too self-absorbed for their liking. The other, a _mundane_. How disgraceful!

So, their focus is back on their eldest son. The one that the Angels destined to stay alone. Or - as is the new order in the Lightwood family now - the one, who can be matched with the best candidate they could find. Which is, of course, a young widow from a good family. One soulbonded to another woman - even platonically - is out of question. Soulmates have too much influence and Lightwoods don't share their power.

As much as Alec hates the idea, he hopes that his parents settle on a candidate soon. Not that Simon would be proven right and a countdown appeared on his wrist. Apparently, that's what happened to the nerd's parents. Not that it was heard of in shadowhunter circles, but neither was a missing soulmark on your 17th birthday. If Alec were to be married before it started, nothing would change. Marriage is marriage. And for a shadowhunter, marriage is first and foremost duty. But if it appeared earlier, who knew what the Clave would do with him?

"Hermano, I am sure that you will find your soulmate, too. Simon told me about even more ways soulmarks can manifest. Some are pretty weird. You just need to be patient," Izzy tries to soothe him.

"Why? Now that you and Jace have bonded, our parents will marry me off anyway. Even if it were true, it doesn't matter. They would never allow me to bond with my soulmate, romantic or not."

Izzy looks at him for a long moment and swallows hard. "Alec, it is okay to feel the way you feel." 

_Shit!_

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he says and slips his hands into the boxing gloves. As long as his sister is around, he needs to wear them or she'll give him hell.

Izzy sighs. "Whenever you're ready to talk about it - I am here for you," she says and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "Don't overdo it. And get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, we'll try to get Clary's memories back. Magnus Bane awaits us at 7.30 sharp."

Alec chuckles. "A warlock who's up at that time? That's unusual."

Izzy shrugs. "I heard that he changed his schedule around some time ago. There are rumours that he is cursed. But most likely, he's just eccentric."

"But tomorrow is pancake day. I don't mind missing breakfast, but …"

"We haven't been to Taki's Diner in ages. Their pancakes are better anyway and we need food in our system for the summoning," Izzy suggests.

"Okay, but you pay."

Izzy laughs and leaves him in the training room, alone with his thoughts and the dread slowly climbing up to his throat.

He pulls the boxing gloves off his hands and throws them into a corner. Sleep? He doesn't need sleep. He doesn't _want_ sleep. Because with sleep come dreams and if there is anything that Alec can't allow himself to have it's sweet dreams of a future he'll never have.


	3. Chapter 3

When Magnus feels the shadowhunters pass his wards he is as rested as he hasn't been in weeks. The pain stopped around midnight and hasn't come back all morning. If he had known that, he wouldn't have summoned the nephilim at such an early hour. But, it's usually the only time his soulmate doesn't seem to hurt himself. Magnus just hopes that it isn't different today. Summoning a Demon is dangerous. He shouldn't do it with constant pain.

The four young shadowhunters are nice enough. The blond is cocky, but nothing Magnus couldn't handle. Clary reminds him of her mother, fierce and stubborn. Izzy seems to be a force of nature and he likes her instantly. But Alec? Alec is something else.

The young man smiles shyly at him as he passes by, with lips that beg to be kissed, and eyes that speak of sadness and something, Magnus can't quite read. The warlock immediately feels the urge to pull the shadowhunter into his arms, to pamper him, and show him the good sides of life. _Strange._

Alec is slim, too slim in Magnus' opinion. Not malnourished, but still. His hair is a beautiful mess. Magnus wants to run his hands through it and whisper into his ear how beautiful he is. He's pretty sure that no one ever told him that.

Of course, Magnus does no such thing. He just watches Alec interact with the others and it's clear as day that the one his eyes cling to, is the blond, who in return has only eyes for his newly bonded, redheaded soulmate. Poor thing. Falling for someone who is mated. Unusual too. Most people just wait until they meet their significant other.

Magnus shakes himself out of staring and orders Jace to explain to his mate how the whole summoning spiel works, while she is painting the pentagram on the floor.

Izzy engages him in a conversation about the latest Downworld rave and her favourite make-up palette. From the corner of his eye, Magnus watches Alec going through his library, fingers hovering respectfully a centimetre away from the spines. The sight makes Magnus' heart ache. If he wouldn't know it better, he would think he was falling in love with the younger man. But they have hardly exchanged words. It's probably just physical attraction. It has to be.

His friends always said that he gave his heart away too freely. But even for him, this crescendo of feelings is extraordinary. But he can't help it. Every time Alec looks at him, smiling lopsidedly with closed lips, as if it was a strange concept for his mouth to curl up, his heart misses a beat.

When Clary calls them into the summoning room, Magnus forces himself to not read too much into the look that Alec gives him when he takes his hand. His gaze is timid as a fawn, and longing. A bit like he is afraid of his own shadow. What a strange behaviour for a nephilim. And so endearing. Magnus wills himself to look away from him. It's like breaking the laws of physics when he finally manages it.

***

The summoning was child's play. They offered their 'payment'. After Magnus' was a memory of two warlocks - clearly his friends - Alec wasn't shocked to see Jace's face flickering in the circle. He was his parabatai after all. Of course, he loved him more than anyone. That this love wasn't strictly platonic, no one would ever know.

Magnus' gloved hand in his felt oddly grounding, something Alec longed for, chased through hard work and pain especially. His trust in the warlock shouldn't have come so easily. Alec wasn't exactly the warm and fuzzy type. But with Magnus, he just knew right from the start that he could show his softer side. Not that he would understand why. Or that he would actually do it. But the thought itself was like balm on his fraying edges.

Magnus' presence was soothing and unsettling at the same time. That's why he was thankful that Izzy kept the warlock company during the preparations. He wasn't sure if he would have managed a full sentence without turning into a stuttering mess.

Alec stole glimpses of the beautiful man talking to his sister. And ever so often, Magnus looked back, smiling soft and warm, with a gaze that curled excitingly through Alec's body and his very soul.

In another world, Alec would have asked him out, would have probably dared to kiss those plush lips, would have learnt how to make the eccentric man laugh. Alec would bet that his laughter in a private setting sounded even more wonderful than what he let out in front of these strangers. Alec will likely never know.

He looks at Magnus and wonders how it must be to wait for your soulmate, not just years but possibly for millenia. Maybe that's why he's wearing gloves. The mark is a constant reminder of not having met the person that will make him whole. Just as Alec's empty wrist is a constant reminder of not having someone destined to complement him.

Poor Magnus. A gorgeous man like him deserves to have someone on his side. Someone to share his life, his many stories with. Instead, he has to flirt with someone like Alec, who is too flustered to respond or even call him out on it. At least the others didn't seem to care. Teasing from Jace, or worse, Clary, isn't something Alec looked forward to.

But why is he even musing about this? Yes, he was attracted to men but he never allowed himself to even think about them in these terms. Okay, about Jace. But ever since Clary's name appeared on his parabatai's wrist, Alec had not allowed himself more than looking at him. Everything else was inappropriate. He is disciplined and very good at setting rules and following them. But Magnus somehow breaks through his barriers without any efforts.

Alec settles on the sofa and leans his head into his hands. The whole morning he felt off. _Maybe too much sleep_ , he ponders, _and not enough training to justify the pancakes._

How much off the charts he is, he realises, when he's startled by a hand holding a glass of orange juice in front of him. The manicured fingers are so clearly Magnus' that he doesn't dare to look up and just takes it with a quiet, "Thanks."

"Are you alright?" the warlock asks with a voice that runs over Alec's skin like warm oil. He wants to bathe in the sound, rub his cheek on the other man's, just to hear it closer to his ear. That's ridiculous, of course. Who would want to be so near to him? Not even the Angels could find someone who did. And that being said, he's a shadowhunter. Shadowhunters don't need coddling. They need rules and discipline. That's all.

Alec decides to go to the infirmary as soon as they are back in the Institute. Something is very wrong with him. This isn't normal. Feeling relaxed in a warlock's lair isn't normal. Not for him.

He should shake off the other man's hand, steadying him on his shoulder. He shouldn't melt into the touch, shouldn't relish in it. But he does, his mind going blissfully blank and the voices in his head telling him what a failure he is quieting down to a background buzz. He allows himself that short moment of tranquillity. Just another second.

He's pulled out of this state by Jace's piercing voice, "Come on, Alec. We're leaving." He doesn't dare to look into Magnus' eyes when he mumbles his goodbye.


	4. Chapter 4

"What's up with you, Alec?" Jace asks when his brother bumps into him for the second time as they climb down the stairs from Magnus' loft.

"Don't know. Feeling a bit off," Alec replies. Izzy jerks to a halt in front of him and turns around, grabbing her brother's chin and pulling it down forcefully.

"Your eyes are cloudy," she states and lays her palm on his forehead. "A little warm. When did this start?"

"When we arrived," Alec answers, already expecting Izzy's eye-roll. "But walking seems to make it worse." 

"Maybe the pancakes. You usually don't eat so much," Jace says. Alec just hums noncommittally in response. It's as good an explanation as any.

"Maybe I skip the speed rune and just take the subway," Alec says.

"I'll go with you," Izzy replies in a tone that leaves no room for dissent. Clary and Jace glamour themselves and leave, while Izzy and Alec head for the next subway station.

All the time, Alec feels his sister’s gaze on him. "Maybe it's the same bug that I had," she guesses. "Nausea, dizziness, raised heartbeat."

Alec nods. Shadowhunters get sick rarely, but Clary seemed to have brought more than happiness to their group. The only ones not affected had been Simon and Alec. At least until now.

But his siblings got better rather quickly. They thought it was just nerves due to the bonding. But Alec feels more and more unwell. He's sweating as if he sparred. He feels cold shivers run over his body. Maybe he should have stayed at Magnus' loft.

He's a shivering, sweating mess when they finally enter the Institute and he leans heavily on Izzy to manage the last steps to the infirmary. He falls onto the hospital cot and slips into a restless sleep.

***

Magnus slumps onto the couch and sends Cat a text. He feels unusually warm, his limbs heavy. He hasn't had the warlock flu for decades now, hasn't heard of any local cases. So he keeps calm. It's unlikely that he caught something.

Cat is at his side within a minute, leisure clothes showing that he didn't catch her on duty. But she's prepared with latex gloves and a mask. One look at his exhausted eyes and her familiar magic washes over and through him. He loves that they don't need a lot of words.

"No bug," she says and gives him _that_ sad smile, while getting out of her medical gear.

"That explains why they haven't hurt themself today," Magnus says and rolls his eyes. "Ouch!" He presses a hand to the crook of his arm. "Great. They are at the doctor's," he says when he realises that the pain comes from a syringe.

Catarina raises an eyebrow and settles into a cushioned armchair opposite her friend. "Magnus. How much longer do you plan to endure this? Because I can't see you like this anymore," Cat says sympathetically.

"What other choice do I have?" he sighs.

"You could root out the bond …"

"... and possibly kill my soulmate? Cat, you can't be serious!" Magnus protests. He knows she means well but that just isn't an option. He could never face himself in the mirror again.

"But this can't go on. Usually, it's 6, maybe 12 months max, after the younger soulmate becomes 17. It's three years now. That's not normal! You should have met already. Destiny isn't so cruel to not let you cross paths."

Magnus chuckles without mirth. "If destiny were kind, I wouldn't have to bear the pain of someone else. It doesn't even make sense."

Catarina stays unusually quiet after that.

"What?" Magnus all but barks. He knows he isn't fair to his best friend. But his nerves are quite frayed.

"I know you didn't want me to, but I did a bit of research in the Spiral Labyrinth," she starts, pausing to wait for his reaction.

"I knew you would," he chuckles, this time with a pinch of humour. "What did you find out?"

"This kind of soulmark is rare, as you know." He nods. "I actually only found two other warlocks, who had it. There are a few seelies, three vampires, no werewolves, no mundanes."

"But that doesn't make sense. Seelies and vampires do not often get hurt, wartimes left aside. Why are all those carrying this mark creatures, who usually don't feel pain?"

"They all had something else in common," she says carefully.

"That sounds as if I wouldn't want to know," he sighs.

Cat nods in agreement. "That might well be the case, my dear friend."

Magnus curls and uncurls his beringed fingers, as if to let out some of the tension in his body. He sets his jaw before he says, "Then I don't want to know, Cat. I know you only worry about me. But I haven't changed my mind. I'm planning my life around this. The cutting stopped a year ago. They are getting better. I hope. Maybe they will stop hurting themself altogether soon."

"What if my information could help you find them? What if you could help them? As soon as you two are bonded, you won't feel their pain any more. You would only know when they were really in trouble, but needn't go through every stubbed toe or burnt tongue."

Magnus shakes his head. "At this point, I don't really want to think or talk about it. Maybe another time. I'm tired. I summoned a Memory Demon today. Shadowhunters. These people are exhausting. Although, one of them was really cute."

Cat straightens in her armchair. "Shadowhunters? What did they want with a Memory Demon?"

"One of them was the daughter of Jocelyn Fray. You know the story. She's looking for her mother."

"And the cutie?"

"Alec Lightwood." At that, Catarina's jaw drops open. "So different from his parents. Nearly shy and very respectful. He even called out his parabatai when he talked bad about a Seelie girl. A rare gem in the coarse gravel of his people."

"Were they here on Clave's order?"

Magnus shakes his head. "I don't think the Clave has any idea about their private mission. At least that's what Isabelle sounded like."

"The Lightwood girl?"

"Yes," Magnus chuckles. "Fierce as her mother but with a kind heart. She just bonded with a mundane."

Catarina leans back into her armchair. "Will they come back?" she asks.

"Why would they?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this chapter is slightly NSFW. Nothing too explicit. It starts after Alec leaves his mother's office.

"What do we have here, Doctor?" Maryse asks, voice strong, not giving away any emotions.

Dr Rosales reports, "Your son was brought in by your daughter. He is feverish and slips in and out of consciousness. We did bloodwork and urinalysis. No findings yet, but some of the tests are still pending. His pulse rate is raised, the blood pressure too."

"So, you have no idea why he is in that condition?" Maryse gives her a stern look. "My other children had something similar. But not as severe."

"I talked to your daughter already," Dr Rosales says. "I think it's very likely that it was due to the turmoil when they met their soulmates. As soon as they came to know each other, their bodies prepared for the bonding, but they parted company. Flu-like symptoms are pretty common with Nephilim if a separation isn't handled carefully. That explains why they got better as soon as they were back together."

Maryse nods in understanding and works her jaw. She's still angry at her children. Bonding before asking for her permission! What did they think? Reversing the bonds now is dangerous and their consent would be needed. She knows her stubborn brood. They will never agree to that.

It would have been so much easier if she learnt about it earlier. Nephilim medicine is well equipped with medication to get over separation sickness. It's often used in a society where family and honour are more important than love - soulmate or not. But breaking a bond against the mates’ will, rooting it out? Even Nephilim can die from that. Maryse may be disgusted by her future in-laws, but there is no way she'll risk her children's health. She may be hard and cold, but she isn't heartless.

Maryse takes a deep breath. "But my son has no soulmark, as you know. So it can't be that," she says matter-of-factly.

"I know," the doctor hastens to say. "But the symptoms would fit a severe soulmate separation."

"Continue searching. I need him back on his feet as soon as possible. His engagement is planned for tomorrow," Maryse says. "He must be presentable when he meets his future wife for the first time." With that, she leaves the infirmary, her heels clicking angrily on the stone floor.

The doctor frowns at Alec for a long moment. A notification sound pulls her attention to a new lab result. She calls it up on the screen and smiles. But then, her face falls when she remembers the Head's earlier words. She scans Alec with sad eyes. "Looks like you have a soulmate after all, sir. Such a shame that you can't marry her."

***

"This can't be right!" Alec dismisses. "There must be another explanation."

"Sir, it's very unlikely. You responded to the medication immediately," Dr Rosales explains, "and the hormone levels …"

"I don't have a soulmark. No name, word, symbol, not even a timer. It must be a coincidence," Alec insists. "Maybe my body is confused by all the new bondings around me and produces hormones by mistake," he declares.

The doctor nods. "As we know little about your general condition, this might well be the case, sir," she relents.

"Can I leave now?" Alec asks impatiently, not wanting to think about this mess any longer.

"Yes, sir. But maybe take it easy for the next few days."

Alec chuckles and she returns it. They both know he's already back on his way to his mother's office, back to duty.

***

Seeing his mother leaning over the wooden table in her office is nearly a soothing sight. He's used to working here whenever she's gone to Idris, being the acting Head of the Institute in her absence. Of course, he knows that his little malady and her plans for him pressured her into coming back. He doesn't expect her mood to be good.

"Alec, you're back to the living. Take a seat," she says after giving him a quick glance. "Everything good again?"

Alec nods. "Back to normal."

"Good. I used the time you were out for preparations. Your father will arrive tonight with the Branwell family. We chose her daughter Lydia to be your wife."

As much as Alec had expected this to happen, it is still a shock. How much time will he have left? Shadowhunter engagements are short. Maybe one week? Two? Three max.

Maryse walks around her desk and presses a tablet into his hand. The screen shows the file of a blond shadowhunter. His future wife. He scrolls through the information. Her resume is impressive and as expected, she is a young widow.

"We'll have dinner on the balcony. Wear your suit and do something with your hair," Maryse says and dismisses him.

Alec walks to his room. He discards his sweat-stained clothing and takes a shower, washing away the smell of sickness and hospital off his skin.

He leans his forehead against the cool tiles, relishing in the water running over his skin. Rinsing the sud off, his hand wanders to his cock, slowly filling at the touch as he relaxes under the warm spray. Just a little relief before he has to go back to the training room, working with the new recruits, before he has to play good son and perfect marriage material.

His hand moves over his erection and he closes his eyes, calling up his usual images of faceless men and enticing body parts. Against his will, new images flood his mind. Chocolate eyes, a beautiful smile. His breathing becomes laboured as his orgasm approaches quickly. He remembers Magnus throwing his head back in laughter and his imagination morphs it into an image of sexual ecstasy. It nearly takes him over the edge.

In shock, he rips open his eyes, lets go of his cock, and presses his hands against the shower wall. _What!?_ He can't just jerk off to the image of a real man! To the local High Warlock at that. What is wrong with him!?

He turns the shower to cold and hisses when the icy water hits his skin. He needs to get a grip on himself. It's one thing that he'll have to think of men to consummate the marriage. But he mustn't allow himself to fantasise over a real man. Just because he's beautiful, and smart, and more than he ever dreamt of.

Alec stays under the gelid spray, even after his erection has deflated. Five minutes, as a punishment for letting his mind go astray. It hurts like a million needle-pricks. He deserves the pain.


	6. Chapter 6

"Fuck!" Magnus screams in pain. Usually, he tries to avoid swear words, but _damn it_! His whole body hurts, as if someone dunked him into a winter lake. It gives him flashbacks, too. He thought he left these memories behind a long time ago.

He's not sure if it is the pain that makes it hard to breathe or if he has a panic attack. The memory of his stepfather trying to kill him floods his mind unbidden.

"Magnus?" Raphael asks anxiously, holding his surrogate father tightly on the shoulders to keep him from falling. "Are you alright?"

Magnus leans into him, still trying to catch his breath. The pain is _everywhere_. What the heck is his soulmate doing? Injuries, mishaps - Magnus is not exactly used to it but he manages. But this? This is torture!

The warlock groans and tries to count down the time. Two minutes. It will be over in two minutes. Hopefully. One breath in - one breath out ...

_Five_ minutes later, his heart slowly stops clenching painfully in his chest. Raphael leads him to the sofa and Magnus slumps down on it. "Call Cat, please," he presses out.

It takes only one look after stepping out of the portal. No words are needed to explain the exhaustion on her friend's face. "Are you ready to listen now?" Catarina asks, raising an eyebrow. Magnus simply nods, defeated.

She sits down in the armchair opposite him. "All those downworlders with this kind of soulmark were bonded to nephilim."

Magnus stares at her for a long moment. "You're fucking kidding me!"

Catarina's eyes grow wide. "Magnus!" she scolds softly.

"I apologise," Magnus says contritely. "At least, that explains the constant injuries."

She looks over to Raphael for a long moment. Magnus gets the distinct feeling that his friends already discussed what Catarina is about to say.

"I'm not so sure. Shadowhunters train hard and of course they get injured a lot. It comes with the job. But what your soulmate endures, and consequently you, seems to be a little over the top, even for a shadowhunter."

Magnus tries to decipher what his friend is saying, but his mind is too fuzzy. "I'm too tired right now to read between your lines, my dear. The last attack affected my whole body and more," Magnus says, exhaustion colouring his voice. He's still trying to push away the feeling of drowning.

"I think they might be either handicapped or …" she takes a breath, "someone who is under _extreme_ pressure to surpass even the high expectations of a common shadowhunter."

"Someone who is handicapped wouldn't be on active duty," Magnus argues.

"And those, destined for higher things, are rare. Locally, it should be easy to reduce the group of people, who might be qualified," Raphael muses.

"Didn't you meet the Lightwood siblings?" Catarina enquires.

Magnus' face loses all colour. "No," he mutters under his breath. "No, no, no, no, no." He hides his face in his hands.

"You said the girl just bonded," Catarina recalls.

"Her adoptive brother, too," Magnus adds.

"That leaves …" Raphael says.

Magnus starts chuckling, nearly hysterically. He breathes out and shakes his head. Why didn't he see it? It was as clear as day.

"It all makes sense now. The sudden attraction. The immediate trust. Destiny really likes playing jokes. A _Lightwood_! Of all shadowhunter families, the son of Maryse and Robert. Fu...dge." He shakes his head. "I called him a repellent brat, you know. When he was just a baby. His mother _hates_ me. She detests all downworlders."

"Don't forget the homophobic Clave," Raphael chimes in.

Catarina shoots him a stern look. "It doesn't matter. He is your soulmate, Magnus," she says in her no-nonsense way. "You need him and he needs you."

"He's … Lilith! He's hurting himself for years, probably long before his 17th birthday. I always thought he must be a total prick to hurt me, but he most likely doesn't even know that he _has_ a soulmate. The few minor things that happen to me - he might not even register them. Cat, he …"

"I know. We will find a way to tell him that you are soulmates, before it's too late," Cat interrupts him, voice purposefully soft.

"Too late? Too late for what?" Magnus looks at her in shock.

She swallows hard. "People who do self-harm are more likely to commit suicide," she says as calmly as she can muster.

Tears prick Magnus' eyes. He's been there before himself. He thinks of that night when Camille saved his life. He wouldn't let his soulmate die.

He closes his eyes and relives their first encounter in his mind's eye. How Alec smiled at him, how he moved through his lair as if he knew it somehow. His shyness towards him and his confidence towards the other shadowhunters. The way his own heart ached when Alec didn't look at him as they said goodbye.

Does the shadowhunter know? Is he repelled by him? Because he's a downworlder? Or has he no idea what they are to each other?

"I … I need to see him," he says, jumping off the sofa, a sudden urgency threatening his chest to burst.

"You can't just materialise on the Institute's doorstep," Raphael interjects.

"No. But I can prepone the reinforcement of the wards. They are due next month but they don't really care when I come as long as I announce it 24 hours prior."

He conjures a paper and a fountain pen and sends a fire message.

"So. Now we have 24 hours to think about how to approach this best. I can't just walk to Alec and tell him. He'll either think I'm crazy or he'll run away. And I'm not fired up on ending in the Institute's dungeon either, if Maryse or Robert get wind of it."

Raphael looks at him in concern. "Be careful!"

"I will."


	7. Chapter 7

The plan sounded easy enough: Meeting Izzy in the morning for brunch under the disguise of talking about fashion. Getting some more information about Alec and pointers on how to approach him best. Then going to the Institute to reinforce the wards and trying to talk with Alec, easing into the soulmate topic, maybe even telling him what he found out, or at least very strongly suspected.

Of course, it didn't go that smoothly. Or, to stay closer to the truth, it was a disaster.

First, Izzy was 40 minutes late. A habit that Magnus loathed about shadowhunters. They were soldiers. Coming late was a _choice_ they made to show their perceived superiority.

When she finally arrived and apologised a million times, Magnus scolded himself for being so prejudiced. The younger generation of nephilim was different. At least some of them.

Now, he only half-heartedly listens to Izzy's rambling about the latest New York fashion week. He doesn't want to be too obvious in his main interest. Who knows if she even knows that her brother is gay or bi or whatever. He needs to tread lightly.

"How come you have so much time for fashion and stuff? I thought, shadowhunters train and work 24/7," he stops her never-ending stream of words.

Izzy rolls her eyes. "Some of us do. But I'm not obsessed like my brother. Alec is working himself into an early grave. Nephilim life is short enough. I prefer living a little, as long as it lasts."

Magnus hums in agreement. "So, Alec is an over-achiever?"

"You could call him that," Izzy chuckles and it's clear that she loves her brother despite it. "Of course, the pressure on him is now even bigger than at any time before. My parents will go back to Idris soon and Jace and I, well, with our soulmates, we pretty much ruined any chance to take over the Institute. Although, to be honest, it was always going to be Alec."

"Because he's the eldest?" Magnus enquires.

Izzy shakes her head. "No. Because he's unbonded."

Magnus chokes on his champagne. "Isabelle, no one is unbonded," he says with rising panic in his chest. Is that what Alec is thinking? That he has no soulmate? That would explain a lot.

"Well, my brother is. I mean, he's 20, has no mark whatsoever and even that countdown thing that some mundanes have should have happened a while ago." Izzy could hit herself that she made Alec hopeful a few days ago. There is still the small chance that his soulmate is younger than him, but it doesn't matter anymore.

"There are no unbonded people in existence, Isabelle" Magnus insists. "I've been walking the earth for centuries. I have never met a single person without a soulmate."

Izzy looks at him for a long moment, eyes filled with sadness. "Even if you were right and he had one, it wouldn't make a difference, Magnus. Not everyone gets the luxury of following their heart. The moment his wrist stayed blank, he was destined to be a chess piece on our parents' checkerboard. We just sped up the process."

Magnus feels his hope fading. "He surely has some time left to see if he'll meet his soulmate."

Izzy shakes her head. "No. It's too late for that. He just got engaged."

All colour leaves Magnus' face. He grabs the armrest of his chair and tries to follow Izzy's speech on why gold is the colour for shadowhunter weddings. Magnus can't listen. His time is running out and for very different reasons than he thought.

***

Magnus holds the door of the Institute open for Izzy and she gives him a warm smile. It freezes on her face as she sees her mother approaching, a blonde shadowhunter at her side.

"Mother. Lydia," Izzy greats. Maryse stares past her, fixing Magnus with a tight gaze.

"Bane, what are you doing here!? It's not the time for the next appointment, yet," she all but hisses.

"Mrs Lightwood, I'm planning to go on vacation. Your husband approved me coming here today," Magnus says as calmly as he can muster. She's not worth the energy getting into a trial of strength, especially not if this is the only chance for him to get close enough to Alec to make him call off the wedding.

Maryse presses her lips into a thin line. "Make it worth the money then. Start with the chapel. We're expecting high-level officials soon."

Magnus nods, happy to remove himself from the situation but Lydia shoots out her hand. "Are you _the_ Magnus Bane?" she asks cheerfully, shaking his hand in excitement.

"Yes. The one and only," Magnus chuckles.

"My name is Lydia Branwell. You and my great ancestor, Henry Branwell, invented the portal."

"Oh, Henry. Right. A cheerful, kind man. Brilliant inventor," Magnus smiles at the memory, "and brave. Did you know he fought the Leviathan, even though he had been severely handicapped?"

"I'd love to learn more about him," Lydia says and Magnus nods, smiling at her.

"You'll hardly have any time for chitter-chatter when you're leading the Institute," Maryse chides.

Magnus' smile falters. This is the woman that Alec is supposed to marry? His eyes fall on her wrist, the name John, stark black against her fair skin.

"My heartfelt sympathy!" he can't help saying.

Lydia covers the name with her hand. "Thank you, Warlock Bane."

"Izzy, come with us. We've got a wedding to plan," Maryse says and stomps away without another word. The two young women nod at Magnus in a silent goodbye.

Magnus quirks his lips and takes a deep breath to steady himself. He hears someone clearing their throat next to him. Right. He has a job to do.

He rolls his eyes at the door guard, knowing well that he heard his boss say that he's allowed to stay. He straightens his jacket and walks down the corridor. He has a few wards to check and a soulmate to bewitch.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think. 💜


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